


To Touch

by sulkysheep



Series: Gutters [4]
Category: Supernatural
Genre: (duh), ??? - Freeform, Destiel - Freeform, Fluff, M/M, No Angst, No Funny Business, Short, after a long day okay, also dean somehow doesn’t have a shirt on, cas likes dean, dont question, in a motel, just ridiculous descriptions for ridiculous things, let’s just assume he was gettinng undressed, the lord commanded it
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-07-11
Updated: 2018-07-11
Packaged: 2019-06-08 22:31:43
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 270
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/15253494
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/sulkysheep/pseuds/sulkysheep
Summary: He’s supposed to be a twisted thing, with claws and sharp, shiny teeth, but he isn’t that at all.





	To Touch

His shoulders are broad and dusted with freckles the color of cream and coffee, so close and clustered, invisible from afar but unmistakable up close. They make Castiel ache to touch, to reach out and—

There’s no way he can convince himself he doesn’t want this, because he ran out of excuses. Excuses as to why he was so caught up in it all, molten metal in the mold of Dean’s smile, tripping over the dips at the corner of his mouth, the curve of his cupid’s bow. Castiel ran out of excuses as to why he should deny himself this, as to why he keeps pushing back and away, falling into the other direction to keep from running towards the other.

The muscles in Dean’s back shift again, a hypnotizing circle of want as simple as the spark of a nerve, a movement completely natural to its place in the universe.

Castiel wants this, and it’s refreshing to admit, even if it’s just in the quiet, darkened space of his mind, whispered in the weakest voice. The loving voice, the one always dragging him back home, like an astronaut pulled to earth.

 _You love him_ , the voice tumbles out as Dean turns to face him. He loves this blackened, dark thing, because that’s what it’s supposed to be, but that isn’t it at all.

He’s supposed to be a twisted thing, with claws and sharp, shiny teeth, but he isn’t that at all. Instead, he’s this trusting pile of skin and bones waiting to be put back together, needing, yet unbreakably strong.

Castiel aches to touch, so he does.

**Author's Note:**

> if I got 10 dollars for every unnecessary comma in this (whatever the heck it is), i would definitely be rolling in dough  
> thank you :)


End file.
